Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
My Animals and Other Family
It wasn't meant to be like this. I distinctly remember the reasons for moving out here and they
were exactly what Lenin had promised the Russian people in 1917: 'Peace! Bread! Land!' Five
years after signing on the dotted line I was now supposed to be enjoying the fruits, that is sit-
ting languidly under a tree, chewing on a length of straw and occasionally muttering the word
'suckers' under my breath as my thoughts wandered smugly back to England. We, the Russians
and I, had been duped.
What very much wasn't part of the plan was to be breaking my back erecting an electric fence
and then having to be the poor fool who had to test every inch of its 400-foot perimeter - a
process which involved touching the thing at regular intervals, shrieking (to the delight of your
family, who are watching) and doing the whole thing again a few seconds later. We had land
alright, we had bread, but whatever peace was to be found was being constantly disturbed as a
grumpy, loudly swearing mod went about his equine husbandry duties.
'You're very brave,' people had said when we told them we were moving to France. 'That's a
very courageous thing to do.' Really, we thought, brave? If for one moment I had thought that
it was a 'brave' thing to do I probably would have had second thoughts, but Natalie, though
reluctant to leave Crawley, was just as convinced that it was the right thing to do. There were
times in between signing the contract and actually moving in when we wobbled a bit - not
because we were having doubts but because, even at that stage, obstacles kept being thrown in
our way.
Immediately on signing the 'contract to buy', the pound fell. Our budget, if we were to remain
mortgage-free, was pretty tight, so when the exchange rate fell over the next few months from
€1.50 to the pound to €1.25, that left a big hole. It doesn't sound much looking at that, but
£200,000 at €1.50 is €300,000; at €1.25 it's €250,000; and we didn't have a spare fifty grand
knocking about. Every day we would check the exchange rate, but were powerless to transfer
any money until we sold our house. We had until 11 January to pay the remainder of the pur-
chase price or lose our deposit and our dream home in France. Natalie was also now pregnant
and the stress wasn't helping. We finally exchanged contracts just before Christmas, left Eng-
land just after the New Year and were due to move in on the fourth which, coincidentally, is
both Natalie's and Samuel's birthday.
